The Art of Happiness
by interlocutress
Summary: Kaminari has known Sasori since the two were only children, and has always felt an inarguable closeness to the introverted redhead. They were each other's first true friends, and each other's own guide down a road they hope led to happiness. AU Sasori X OC.
1. First Impressions

**_Author's Note: _**_Before you begin reading I would like to take a short moment to bring a few things to your attention. Firstly, because this is a modern time or AU story, Sasori is not going to be an exact replica of how he was in the series. You may find certain things he says or does to be out of character, but bear in mind that because this story is set for today's times he would not have experienced many of the things he had in Naruto – including becoming a puppet and joining the Akatsuki. Secondly, I am aware that in the show and manga he is addressed as Akasuna no Sasori, but again being AU I will simply call him Sasori Akasuna. I am also aware that he is technically in his thirties during the series but had the body of his 15 year old self. I've decided though to go intermediate with these two drastic ages and make him 21, putting the story setting in college. And lastly! Please know that I have never written anything more for Sasori than a couple drabbles, but will do my best to make you the reader pleased with my portrayal of his character. _

_"When I first met you, I felt a kind of contradiction in you. You're seeking something, but at the same time, you are running away for all you're worth." - Haruki Murakami_

**Chapter o1**

_First Impressions_

I had the driver's side visor pulled down and the morning news buzzing in through the car stereo when I first noticed the red and blue whirring lights of a police cruiser coloring my rearview mirror. "Fuck," I hissed, glancing down at the speedometer to see I'd barely been doing ten over. Reluctantly I pulled to a bumbling stop on the side of the road, flipping the visor back up and turning the radio down to an almost absolute silence. Doing my best to wipe away any scowl that had sullied my features, I tried to instead paint on my most pleasant and innocent expression. I rolled down my window as I saw the uniformed man approach.

"Hello officer," I greeted on an outtake of breath, looking up at him with a sheepish curve of my lips. He was a plump and balding man, squat with beady eyes that were all too quick to dart below my neckline. Fighting back a terrible twitch in my eyebrow I continued, "Did I do something wrong?" His stare finally coming up to mine he responded,

"You were doing 50 in a 35 zone." My expression fell blank. _A lying man of the law; how typical, _I thought with bitter irony. Knowing better though than to try and argue against him though, I pretended to be ignorant.

"Was I? My apologies officer, I'll be sure to be more careful next time." My voice had now taken on a rougher, more challenging edge despite the accepting words I spoke. The tightening in his eyes told me he'd noticed, and didn't much appreciate it.

"License and registration," he demanded in his fat sounding voice. I gladly looked away and to my old leather wallet, pulling out the picture ID before fishing around in the glove compartment for the proper registration. A minute or so later I presented them both to the man and he told me to wait, sauntering back to his own vehicle with exaggerated superiority. I watched him for a short minute before reaching for my phone to check the time: three minutes past seven. I laughed through my nose and shook my head loosely. Of course I would be late on the first day back to University, I shouldn't have expected anything less. It had nearly become a tradition, really. Out of sheer reflex I dialed in the one of the two numbers I'd ever bothered to familiarize by heart and typed out the message:

_Going to be late, don't bother waiting. I got pulled over._

Habitually flipping the phone facedown onto my thigh I let out a sigh, looking through the still open window and to the officer who sat comfortably inside his car. "That bastard better not be writing me a ticket," I growled under my breath, knowing how heavy of a debt that would put me in. Working at a bookstore was hardly enough to live on by a day to day basis. A traffic fine would send me drowning deftly into poverty. Feeling my phone vibrate two short times I quickly picked it up and flipped it back over, finding that memorized number to have responded with nothing more than:

_You're an idiot._

I smirked, oddly comforted by my tactless friend, Sasori Akasuna. I'd known the peculiar flame-headed boy since I was six, he being two years my senior. We'd met in the arts and crafts room of a summer camp we'd been cruelly sentenced to while our grandmothers – who also doubled as our caretakers – worked at the local hospital. We both drew in plain pencil the outlines of what it was we really wanted to be working on. He designed the basic schematics of a puppet, while I drew the idea of an outfit I'd had for my beloved baby doll, who was cleverly named Friend.

Though there had been other children who would periodically stop by the room to crudely dish out their idea of what a dog looked like, we were the only two who remained there, unwilling to venture out with the others no matter how desperately the counselors might have begged. Day in and day out we would sit there, occupying the same spots and undeterred from our, apparently, very crucial work. We didn't talk or even so much as acknowledge one another. In truth, we would've much preferred it if the other just left, leaving us with the luxury of predominately having the room to ourselves. It was an unspoken but very mutual distaste for one another that carried on for a long while.

That all changed though when my Nana invited a women from her work over for dinner.

"We're having guests over tonight," she told me slowly, sitting me down on the couch and kneeling in front of me as if it were a plea. "And I'd like it if you tried to be kind and considerate to them." I remember staring at her with dead, disapproving eyes. I wasn't _kind _or _considerate _to anyone at that age – only she knew that there was a softer side to me, and even that took years to fully bring to submission. She smiled at me, her eyebrows knitting together in apprehension as she reached up to brush my hair back behind my ear. "She's my work friend and she's got a grandson who's around your age. She tells me he likes art like you; maybe you two could be friends." My lips wrinkled at her suggestion. I didn't need _friends, _I had my own Friend and to me she was all I would ever need. She listened to me and never complained when I tugged on her hair or threw her against the wall in a fit of rage. She let me scream at her and understood that it wasn't even really her that I was angry with. She always forgave me. She always loved me. She was always there.

"Please just try and be nice Sugar, that's all I ask," my Nana said in a finalizing, wishful kind of way before pressing her lipstick coated mouth to my forehead and leaving a red outline that made my skin itch. When she got up I wiped it away with the back of my tiny hand, feeling angry at her for putting me through this. I stowed myself away in my room for the rest of the morning and afternoon, wanting to drive it home that I was mad with her. I was in the middle of cutting up and 'modifying' one of my old shirts when I heard the doorbell ring. Tossing the scissors and fabric away from me I frantically crawled to the door, pressing my ear against the wood to try and hear out into the living room.

"… glad you could make it Chiyo! Please come in," I made out my own Nana's voice, followed by the scuffling of feet along floorboards and the shutting of our front door. Murmured talk from the guest ensued but I couldn't quite pick out the words, her voice being softer and more foreign than my Nana's. A few seconds later my Nana said, "It's nice to meet you Sasori, you can call me Eiko if you'd like." A silence tailed behind her introduction before she daftly suggested, "Why don't you go to Kaminari's room and see what's she doing? It's the second door on the left." I instantly pushed away from the threshold as if it were suddenly burning the side of my face, staring at it with such horror an onlooker very well might've thought I'd been singed. In the midst of my gawking the door creaked open, revealing an instantly recognizable head of deep ruby hair and uniquely faded brown eyes.

We sat there in a frozen stare-off for I'm not sure how long. I must've been in shock, I concluded many years later when I reflected on the day. Of all the people in the world my Nana could have chosen to become friends with, it had to be the grandmother of the boy who was too stubborn to realize _I _was the rightful owner of the summer camp's art room_. _I thought maybe I was being punished for something I'd done; and an inhumanely cruel punishment I felt it to be.

When I finally gathered my senses together enough to formulate words the first thing I said was, "Get out." He only continued to stand there, staring me down with a sort of annoyance in his eyes. Getting to my feet I found myself to be almost an entire foot shorter than him and this for some reason infuriated me. Snatching up my terribly abused Friend I pressed her tightly into my chest, spitting, "You're not welcome here. Now leave!"

"Your grandmother told me to come in here," he finally spoke, that being the first time I'd ever heard his voice. I was only wounded more when reminded of, what I felt at the time to be, my own flesh and blood's betrayal.

"Well I'm telling you to get out." He looked away from me, as if suddenly disinterested, and walked over to my bookshelf instead. "Hey!" I barked. "Are you listening to me?!" He clearly wasn't though, and seemed to have no intentions of starting. I stared after him incredulously for a few more seconds before letting out a child's squeal of frustration. "Fine! See if I care." I figured if he wouldn't pay me any attention then I wouldn't give him any either. Sitting back down and picking up my latest fashion project, I started snipping at the lime green fabric once more.

"That's not going to fit you. You're too big," the intruder said abruptly after having been watching me in silence. Not bothering to look at him I answered,

"It's not_ for_ me; it's for her." I gestured to the 12 inch doll resting against the side of my leg. He stared again for a moment before coming to sit a few feet to my left, picking up Friend and turning her over analytically in his hands. I kept glancing up at him from the corner of my eye, cautiously waiting to see what he would do. Finally he said,

"You treat her badly." I frowned angrily, my hands pausing from their trimming of t-shirt as I looked over at him.

"And so what if I do? She's _my _doll, I can do whatever I want with her." His eyes lifted to mine, any former frustration he had had seemingly evaporated. It put me off.

"Let me take her home. I'll fix her and bring her back to you at camp on Monday." My eyes narrowed into distrusting slits.

"And why would you do that?" I asked, waiting for the cruel ulterior motive I was sure to come. He blinked, as if the answer were so obvious.

"It's wrong to keep artwork in such bad condition." In that one simple statement my view of the boy had begun to change. Any person who was able to see that Friend was truly art couldn't possibly be as terrible as I'd originally made him out to be. I thought on it for another few seconds, last moment skepticisms dawdling through my mind before I finally announced in agreement,

"Fine. I'll let you keep her for the weekend. But you'd better have her back to me by Monday or else." I wasn't sure what the _else _option really signified, but I hoped it was enough to scare him into being true to his word.

"I will. I really don't like to keep people waiting," he explained in such a way to make it seem like it pained him simply to think about it. I smirked, satisfied by the transaction we'd just made.

"Good, because I don't like to be kept waiting." A tiny, ghostly smile wisped at his lips as he looked down at Friend, lifting up one of her arms to inspect her more closely. I watched him for a minute, my face drawing blank as I took in his features. I'd never seen a person who looked quite like him before; he had a very unique look, I hated to admit. "My name is Kaminari, by the way," I decided to tell him, though I was sure he'd already figured it out. He tilted his head up only slightly enough to look at me from under his lids.

"I'm Sasori." I nodded my head, having already known his name too.

We learned much later in our lives that our grandmother's had been listening outside my bedroom door the entire time, and when we at last introduced ourselves they swore they could've dropped dead right there from happiness. "I knew you two would be good friends from that day on out," my Nana explained to me, as if it were the most obvious truth in the world.

That night as we all sat around our dining room table, eating sesame seed coated salmon with rice and seaweed on the side, both my Nana and Sasori's grandmother watched us with such closeness you would've wondered if they were waiting for something spectacular – which, in their minds, very well might've happened. A smile or exchange of conversation between us would've been an angel answering their prayers. But we both sat silent, eating our food as we typically would in the side by side chairs they made us sit in. We might not have spoken then, but the small exchange of words earlier was enough to last them for the month. Not to mention that, later that night, when I gave him my doll, neither of us saying anything but having a mutual understanding of what that meant, our grandmother's had to all but scrape their jaws off the floor.

But it was true that after that day we started sitting next to each other in the arts and craft's room. We would comment on what the other sketched out – sometimes positively but most of the time negatively – and talk about how incessant our grandmothers were. We began to have dinner at one another's house suspiciously frequently, and even when summer camp ended we discovered that we'd both been attending the same school all along. Being that we were two grade levels apart though we never interacted outside of lunch, in which we would again sit together and discuss our latest art projects in a closed-off manor. No one ever bothered to try and socialize with us, but many girls would whisper amongst themselves on how cute they found Sasori to be. It disgusted to me. Sasori wasn't _cute_, he was a creative genius. They were simply too dumb to see that.

We never quite came to be kind to one another as a person might typically be towards their closest friend, namely Sasori who all around seemed to be allergic to affection, but it was clear to anyone who saw us that we were each other's best friend. It was all our grandmother's had ever wanted and they of course took full credit for our friendship's success. We never cared enough about the matter to try and argue otherwise. In fact, we never were particularly keen on admitting how close we were period. Inside we were still the loner children we'd been when we first met with a stubbornness that was impossible to break through. Even 13 years later, waiting to be released by an officer so I could drive the rest of the way to campus and find him, was I still unwilling to admit that Sasori Akasuna was my dearest and closest friend.

"Remember next time to obey the law and you might be able to avoid one of these," the policeman said, cutting through my reverie and handing me back my belongings along with a yellow slip of paper. "And don't forget to buckle up," he added before turning to waddle back to his cruiser which I just then realized to be an undercover vehicle, those slick bastards. Looking down at the piss colored paper my eyes skimmed the words at the top then flew to the bottom, instantly spotting the $200 fine.

"That asshole!" I cursed, slapping my palm against the steering wheel in frustration. That was it. I was done for. I'd be eating beans and rice for the next three months. Curling my fingers into a fist around the sheet I tossed it into the passenger seat, put my car into gear, and headed the rest of the way to Konoha University, doing exactly 35 miles per hour the entire way there. "I hope you're watching this copper," I murmured, periodically glancing in my rearview but not seeing him anywhere in sight. It was all the same to me; I'd be spiteful whether I had an audience or not.


	2. The Roommate

**Chapter o2**

_The Roommate_

_"I wish I could say everything in one word. I hate all the things that can happen between the beginning of a sentence and the end." – Leonard Cohen_

When I reached the University I unintentionally slammed the car door shut and stubbed my toe on the curb in my hurry to get to my morning class of Anatomy I. By the time I reached the right room the lecture of course had already started and I was, to say the least, reluctant to actually go inside. I knew the minute I opened the door all eyes would fly to me in a mixture of curiosity and boredom, not including the professor who would try and pretend as if he hadn't even noticed me enter, which would be strangely degrading. I paused with my hand on the doorknob to take a calming breath, then pushed onward before I had the chance to talk myself out of it.

"—section four of the syllabus discusses the course work for the first quarter of the semester," I caught the professor say as I walked in but kept my eyes to the heart of the room, looking out into the rows of filled seats that resembled church pews and searched for that singularly familiar face. Not wanting to be frozen at the threshold for too long I began to slowly walk towards the seats, still glancing between the students until I at last caught sight of the redheaded male sat in the back right corner of the room. We made eye contact and he gave me a look that showcased just exactly how unimpressed he was with me. Despite that I smiled with relief, climbing the steps to the back and quietly taking the empty seat beside him, knowing full well that it had been saved for me. I didn't bother in greeting him when I got there, and neither did he. By then my attention had already sifted away from the male and back to the lecturing man at the front of the room.

He appeared to be fairly young, in his mid-thirties at the latest, yet had an entirely silver head of hair. Granted it was a noticeably different shade than that of aged grayness but was regardless a quirky trait to have. He had begun to talk of the finer points of the class's workload and was mentioning some of the projects that would be presented later on in the course. Glancing about the room at some of the other students I could tell they were growing to be intimidated. Resting my elbow on the table and my chin in the palm of my hand I cast my gaze lazily back down at the professor. I wasn't phased in the slightest. This was Sasori's best subject, and anything he excelled in I was guaranteed to breeze through as well. He would doubtlessly help me along, if not just give me the answers himself, and I would in return give him aid in all the courses I shined in. We truly had a beautiful system.

Roughly twenty minutes later he wrapped up his overview of the syllabus and moved on to our first lesson of the year: distinguishing between anatomy and physiology. He explained that, in far more technical terms, anatomy is the structure while physiology is the function. He also went on to say that you couldn't have one without the other and that if we were taking this course it meant we would have to take physiology next. I found that doubtful, as neither of the courses were actual requirements by the college, but agreed that it would be like quitting a class halfway through if you took one without later taking the other.

The remaining hour and a half of the class time was spent in a lecture on the history of anatomy, and how scholars had gone about studying the science hundreds of years ago. I took halfhearted notes but was in truth simply more interested in listening than trying to worry myself in copying down the details of what he said. I found it all to be surprisingly captivating, and I was pleased that the professor – whom I had learned was actually named Professor Hatake – had a smooth and calming voice. It would be bearable to listen to rant on for six hours each week.

Sasori and I were one of the first to leave the lecture hall, Sasori's impatience always fueling us out ahead of the pack. "So why were you stopped," he asked in a way that made it sound like a statement as we walked down the hall towards the dormitories.

"Speeding, but I wasn't even doing 10 over. The cop was just a real asshole and said I was doing 50 in a 35 zone, so he gave me a $200 dollar fine."

"Hn," he huffed. "Well maybe you should pay more attention next time to the speed limit and you won't have these problems."

"Shut up Sasori, you sound just like that creep," I spat in annoyance.

"Just because he was doing his job he's suddenly a creep, how mature of you Kami," he mused in a way that I was sure was meant to be belittling but at that point had no effect on me.

"No, what made him a creep was the way he gawked at my chest the minute he walked up to the car window." Sasori fell silent after that, and I assumed the quick flux into sexuality made him uncomfortable. It wasn't that he was embarrassed by the opposite gender, but rather _my_ gender in specific. Having known one another for so long – since before gender was even a thought that would make a difference – it'd become a bit awkward for us to acknowledge the other's distinguishing sex organs. That was doubtlessly one of those uncomfortable times. "Anyways, come help me bring some of my stuff back up to my dorm. You wouldn't believe how many packs of instant ramen Nana bought for me," I said as we started walking through the parking lot, slowly divulging him off his path and to my '89 BMW which I then noticed to be parked horribly. I never was any good when in a rush.

"Fine," he agreed plainly, coming to stand at my trunk and waiting for me to pop it open. Inside were two cardboard boxes, each carrying a load of what my Nana called "college ready food", and the suitcase I'd used when I went to go visit her for summer break. Without waiting for me to direct him he lifted the two boxes, carrying one beneath each arm, and left me with the luggage, which was quite the deal considering it had rolling wheels. Having no complaint I forced the trunk back down with some effort and we began our trek to the girl's dormitory. "How is Nana doing?" he asked casually as we came up to the sidewalk that lead straight to my building.

"Good," I responded instantly, but after a moment's thought added on, "okay. That arthritis in her hip is really slowing her down these days." Sasori nodded his head in silent understanding. I wished suddenly I could've asked him about Granny Chiyo, but she'd died a little over a year ago. Though he didn't like to show it, I could tell her passing had an effect on him, but I would never force him to talk. In fact I couldn't have even if I did want to. He was all too stubborn for that.

"At least she's being taken care of in that retirement home," he said optimistically and I hummed a yes.

"Not that she's hearing any of it. She swears it's the cruelest thing I could've done to her." I shook my head at her senile outrageousness. I knew she understood _why _I couldn't both take care of her in her old age and attended University at the same time, but she liked to play it up anyways. I think she got a little enjoyment out of it; gave her something to do, at the least. Turning my face to him I smiled slightly, saying in an almost teasing tone, "You know she kept asking why you hadn't come too; she's pretty mad with you right now Sasori." His lips tugged downward into a frown.

"She's not my grandmother…" he murmured, suddenly losing the familiarly endearing term 'Nana' and swapping it out for something that would make it quite clear he held no obligations to her. I laughed slightly at this as we climbed the stairs to the second floor.

"Try telling her that." The minute we mounted the last step I saw my dorm room door swung wide open and loud mindless chatter flooding out into the hall. My face fell limp in disappointment as I hesitated, Sasori walking ahead and finding his turn to smirk mockingly at me.

"Looks like Ai's got some friends over," he said, turning to be taking slow steps backwards so that he could face me. Feigning delight I responded dryly,

"How wonderful, I'm sure they're real intellectuals." With as much willpower as I could muster, I managed to trudge my feet forward, my redheaded friend waiting for me to pass him up so that I would be the first to reach the room. Sasori really was sadistic at heart; I knew he enjoyed seeing my misery. "Hey Ai," I said, the words tucked into a sigh as I stepped into the open doorframe. Ai was sat on her knees on her bed, her baby pink hair pulled up into a high ponytail as she braided the long blonde tresses of another girl whom I didn't recognize and one more girl with a chin length black locks and doe-wide charcoal eyes sat on our small counter at the other corner of the room. They all flashed their evaluating stares onto me and I suddenly felt as if I'd been stripped naked.

"Oh, hi K," Ai greeted with despondence and her very annoying use of the nickname 'K'. I'd told her on several occasions not to call me that and to use my full name, but she just couldn't seem to comprehend a name that was an entire four syllables. It was a lost cause. By the sudden shot of excitement that lit up the three females faces I knew Sasori had come to be standing behind me. "Sasori! How nice of you to come see me!" my roommate cooed, leaping from the bed to come a little bit closer, as if she hadn't had a good enough view of the boy.

"I was actually helping Kami bring these boxes up," he said with disinterest in his voice as he brushed past me to set down the things he was carrying at the foot of the counter in front of the doe-eyed girl, who looked like she might break out into a squeal any minute. Seeing him do that though brought me slightly back into reality; enough for me to remember the suitcase at my heels. Wheeling it the last couple of feet to my bed pushed into the right corner of the room I threw it on top of the mattress, not caring if there was any dirt flung up onto my comforter in the process.

"So who are your friends Ai?" I asked, knowing that was the most polite thing to do at that point. I had come a long way since my temperamental childhood, though it may not have seemed that way to others who didn't know me all that well.

"I'm Yuina," the blonde with her hair half braided introduced, but when I looked over at her and saw the way she eyed Sasori I could tell it really wasn't for me.

"And I-I'm Nori," the girl sat perched on my counter stuttered, watching him with almost desperation as he came to sit on my bed beside my suitcase.

"Well it's nice to meet you guys!" I said with purposeful loudness. It was beyond frustrating bringing Sasori around other females; it was as if I suddenly didn't exist and could have blown away in the wind for all they cared. They all looked at me, startled, as if they'd forgotten I was even there. "I'm Kaminari and please, call me Kaminari." I shot a look at Ai, but she was too focused on the redhead beside me to even notice. I sighed. These women were all helpless when it came to men. I could tell they were waiting for Sasori to introduce himself, but I knew of course that wouldn't happen. Unlike myself, he really hadn't changed all that much since childhood. His hardheaded spirit ran bone deep and blood thick.

"When you're done unpacking we're going to my dorm, I have something I want to show you," the brown eyed boy stated matter-of-factly to me, making it clear he didn't intend that as a suggestion. And, hearing the gasp that came from Nori, I had no argument. I couldn't imagine being sat in this room with these girls any longer than need be. I may have progressed in my social skills but that was just pushing it.

"Yeah, just give me a few minutes," I answered while unzipping my suitcase and having my clothes explode out like a loaded spring. I was terrible at packing, I never understood how some people – like Sasori – did it so neatly and orderly.

"What did you need these for?" Sasori muttered in disapproval. Holding back my auburn-brown hair and looking over at him I started to ask,

"Need what f—" My face flushed ruby red and my jaw fell flat open when I saw him dangling my grey thong from between his forefinger and thumb. Snatching it away crudely I stammered, "None of your damn business that's what for! Jesus Sasori, do you mind?!" He was looking at me with wide eyes and in silence, as if for some reason shocked that I was embarrassed by his findings. Balling the small clothing item into my fist I shoved them into the bowels of my splattered wardrobe. "You know what why don't you go wait in the hall…" I felt him staring at me for a minute longer before he got to his feet and walked out the door, not saying another word. I was glad he hadn't said anything; it would've only made me more embarrassed.

Trying to shake the awkwardness from my mind I started pulling out shirts and hanging them up in my small closet, not even checking to see if they were clean or not. After the third wrinkled shirt I heard Ai say, "Well, we're going to give you some space to finish unpacking. So… we'll be in the hallway." I was glad my back was to her so she couldn't see the way I rolled my eyes.

"Sure," I said shortly, shoving another hanger into the collar of a black t-shirt advertising some town I'd never been to. I bought it from a thrift store, like most of my clothes. People were always telling me it was ironic that I dressed so casually yet I wanted to open my own boutique. "_Baby _boutique," I'd correct, but they never understood. They just couldn't understand that baby 'fashion' was an entirely different realm than that of adult fashion. If it was socially acceptable for me to walk around in yellow duck footie pajama's all day I would, but like I always tried to explain to people, it was a different kind of fashion. And unfortunately I didn't know anything about what was considered 'in' for adults or teenagers. So, consequently, I didn't even try. Sasori would even occasionally tease me on the matter, and I remember one day turning the tables on him and asking, "You like making puppets; why don't you turn yourself into one?" It scared me when he didn't answer, only looked away.

The three girls filed out of the room in almost total silence until the door had was so close to being closed and I heard one of them say, "are you okay?" and another one chime, "she was being so mean!" I groaned from the back of my throat, disbelieving that I actually was stuck sharing a dorm with one of those nitwits. Not caring enough about them, their opinions of me, or any interaction they might have with Sasori, I continued putting away the rest of my clothes with a gratefulness of not to having to be in their presence any longer.

When I'd gotten down to the bottom of my luggage and found the culprit pair of panties lying innocently beneath some jeans I'd all but completely forgotten about the redhead waiting for me beyond my door. With a sigh I picked them up loosely between two fingers, eyeing them wryly. Any assumption he'd come to over the stupid material was wrong; I'd bought them at the beginning of summer to wear with a particularly tight pair of jeans I'd also purchased, the persistent store clerk claiming I would be "freed of my worries on underwear lines." I of course had never been distraught over something as trivial as underwear lines before, but my Nana was paying for all of the things I chose to get, and in truth I had been interested in seeing what the fuss was over such skimpy bottoms, so I got them. I ended up not even wearing them a full day, hating the way they lodged themselves in all the wrong places every time I took a step. I found myself smiling, realizing then how my overreaction must've sent Sasori all the wrong messages. Shoving the last of my clothing items into my dresser drawers I decided I'd explain the story to him, knowing he'd call me an idiot or something similar and I'd laugh, no longer feeling embarrassed. This would resolve itself quickly, as most other things did between us. We never were ones to hold arguments or grudges; it took too much time and energy that could've been better spent on something else.

Kicking my suitcase beneath my bed I walked out into the hallway, finding Sasori to be leaned against the opposite wall with his arms folded over his chest and the three girls surrounding him like a flock of hungry birds. His eyes instantly flew to mine, evident relief washing over him at the sight of me. It quickly faded though into a tight gaze as his light brown orbs narrowed even further. Whatever they had been talking about was silenced as the females also gave their unpleased attention to me. Ignoring them, I said, "You ready to go?" He nodded his head, pushing off the wall and brushing between Ai and Yuina to place himself beside me.

"Bye Sasori!" the blonde chirped, and though I'd already turned my back to her I could imagine the way she waved frantically after him. Her friends said their farewells too, but Sasori seemed to hardly even notice.

"So about earlier," I started lightly as we exited the air-conditioned hallway of the girls dormitory and went out into the main campus. "It's actually really stupid why I had those—"

"It doesn't matter," he cut in sharply, an unusually agitated edge to his typically smooth voice. I raised in eyebrow, looking up at him with slight confusion.

"Okay…" He kept his stare fixated ahead of him, as if intentionally making a point not to meet my gaze. At this I looked away too.


End file.
